


Knife Sharp

by Arkada



Series: Showing Off [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Asgardian knife fights, Competency Kink, Intercrural Sex, Loki's knives turn Tony on, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Shower Sex, Tentative Allies with Benefits, Thanos who? I don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 17:43:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20456885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkada/pseuds/Arkada
Summary: Tony really, really enjoys watching Loki fight. It’s only a matter of time before Loki catches him at it.Luckily for Tony, Loki enjoys being watched - and offers Tony the chance to show his appreciation in person.





	Knife Sharp

**Author's Note:**

> If I owned The Avengers, Endgame would not have been Like That.

Tony strides into the communal gym with a tablet, a coffee, and a foolproof plan to ogle his favorite God of Mischief without getting caught.

Loki and his Valkyrie friend have a semi-regular routine of what they call ‘sparring’ and Tony calls ‘swinging knives at each other with reckless disregard for the raging arousal they incite in anybody in a hundred-foot radius’. And Tony, being just as attracted to the danger of dying of blue balls as any other kind of danger, has taken to watching them whenever possible.

Well, watching Loki in particular.

Forty-some years of life, and Tony’s yet to find anything as beautiful as Loki in a fight. It’s not fair, not funny, and not something Tony has any control over, but people say love isn’t a choice, and neither is Tony’s metaphorical jaw dropping every time he sees Loki with a blade in hand. That ticks boxes Tony didn’t even know he had.

So yeah, he noticed Loki was pretty during his little invasion attempt. And yeah, when Thor brought his homeless Viking horde to Earth a year ago, Tony showed up to the negotiations with Norway and noticed it even harder. But now Loki’s staying in Tony’s house - well, Compound, but it’s the same thing these days - and Tony has to put up with him strutting around with those cheekbones in the air and stupidly long legs and sexy Norse god accent, all without anybody picking up on his Loki-shaped kink… _Then_, twice a week Loki shows off the fighting skills he’s accumulated over the past thousand years, and Tony’s tried, but he’s not capable of letting that go unappreciated.

Tony drops onto one of the empty bleachers and sips his coffee as he waits for the main event. Judging by his totally legitimate study of the Compound’s security footage, Loki and the Valkyrie should be here any minute-

The door bangs open.

-now.

“Which is exactly why- What are you doing in here?”

Tony looks up innocently at Val’s rather abrupt questioning and smiles. “Oh, hey, wasn’t expecting anyone for a while. Needed some quiet time, and the wifi down here is astonishing. Figured nobody would mind if I hung out for a couple hours.”

Val rolls her eyes. “Well, it’s not going to be quiet for long, so I’d recommend hauling ass somewhere else.”

“Nonsense,” Loki says smoothly, entering behind her. Tony blinks at the sight of him, hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail and dressed in Asgard’s version of activewear. Which is to say, skintight black leather and a lot of it. “These are Stark’s halls and we are his guests. He may hang out where he likes.”

“_Thank_ you, give the man a cigar,” Tony says, and turns the tablet on to give weight to his alibi. “These are indeed my ‘halls’ and I have every intention of staying put. You guys aren’t that distracting.”

Val snorts but heads to the middle of the gym to start warming up. Loki stares at Tony for a few seconds - not that Tony’s watching - before following.

Tony opens a half-written program for the next round of Quinjet upgrades, and glances up every so often to watch Loki stretch. It’s a much more rewarding view than the lines of code. Loki’s devastatingly gorgeous and he hasn’t even pulled out the knives yet. He’s all long lines and lean muscle and elegant, flowing movements that scream of a millennium spent murdering everybody in his way.

Tony swallows through a suddenly dry mouth and drops his gaze to the tablet again. It takes a few seconds to isolate a particularly easy section of code to work on, since he knows he's going to be distracted as hell. When Tony looks back up, the warmup is over and Loki’s tossing a single knife from hand to hand, almost carelessly.

Val scoffs at him and starts braiding her hair back from her face. “One of these days you’re going to drop it.”

“Oh, how terrible,” Loki says, deadpan, and lets the knife sail through the air to the side of the room - _away_ from where Tony is sitting. Before the knife has even hit the wall, Loki’s flicked a new one into his hand. “I’m really in trouble now.”

She rolls her eyes. “I hate you.”

Tony’s about sixty percent sure she doesn’t mean it, but she can be even harder to read than Loki is. Either way, Loki doesn’t seem offended, giving her a smirk before settling into a guard stance.

Val pulls out her blade, a short sword strapped to her back, and sets up opposite Loki. They stand in this perfectly posed tableau for just a moment before it breaks and they’re both a blur of violence.

They move faster than Tony can follow - he’ll catch one sequence, a swing of Loki’s arm to block an overhead blow from Val, and then _something _will happen in the middle before they’re five feet further away than they were and Loki’s landing a kick in Val’s stomach. Then another complicated swirl of motion, and Loki’s staggering from a blow to his leg.

Tony ducks his head and pretends to work some more. But that’s almost worse, because now he can _hear_ them and his mind is just filling in the blanks - a clash of blades, rapid steps across the floor like they’re dancing, heavy breaths and grunts of effort - and if Tony were to close his eyes he could easily believe he’s not in the gym at all, and Loki’s making those sounds for a much less innocent reason-

Tony looks back up at a particularly loud scuffle. Val has Loki pinned facedown on the ground, but she’s lost her knife to do it. Loki still has his, and is struggling against her to get to the right angle to do something with it.

Val leans forward and grabs Loki by the hair to yank his head back. It’s quick and savage, but Loki throws himself into the momentum, arching up and cracking her in the nose with the back of his skull. She goes flying off him, and he’s crouched over her with his blade to her throat before she can right herself.

Tony’s halfway towards clapping before he remembers he’s trying to be _sneaky_.

Val surrenders with two taps against the floor and a laser-powered glare. “Ow.”

Loki shrugs with a shameless little smile that says _I’m great and I know it_, and offers her a hand up. “My lady.”

The glare doesn’t go away, but Val grabs Loki’s hand and hauls herself to her feet, and they square off again.

Tony’s tablet has turned itself off from inactivity, and he turns it back on and reloads the code project. He is going to locate and fix three errors before he looks up again, no matter how interesting the sounds of the fight moving across the room are. Otherwise he might as well give up subterfuge entirely, and then who knows which end of the knife he’d be on. Tony finds a misplaced line break as the blades strike each other, rearranges a calculation to the sound of a body hitting the floor, and stares blankly at the screen at the double-tap of someone submitting. _Third error, third error, _he thinks loudly, trying to drown out the urge to look up and see who won-

He’s thinking so hard about _not _looking up that he goes and does it by accident. It’s just a split second, long enough for him to see it’s Loki on the ground, Val over him with a hand on his throat. And if Tony was hoping that seeing Loki lose a round would dampen his rising arousal, he was very much mistaken, because there’s a lot that’s arousing about Loki on his back. His head’s tilted up to bare his long, pale neck, hands open as if to show off how harmless he is, one leg splayed out across the floor and the other bent, knee raised, forming a cradle just inviting Tony to take Val’s place above Loki…

_Third error! _Tony shrieks at his subconscious, and drags his gaze back to his tablet with sheer force of will.

He hears both of them get up, and then-

Tony forgets everything about his plan to find a third error, with extreme prejudice, because _that_ is the sound of a leather jacket being tossed aside.

His head shoots up to drink in the glory that is Loki, shirtless, gleaming with sweat, chest heaving as he catches his breath. Tony’s vaguely aware of Val taking a break too, chugging a bottle of water like it’s vodka, but Loki’s abs are firm and toned and _begging_ for Tony to lick them.

Loki half-turns, stretching out his sides, and presents Tony with a delicious view of his back, all shifting muscle and the ridges of his spine just barely visible. His pants sit low enough to tease without actually revealing anything at all. Tony almost whimpers.

Loki reaches up and undoes the tie holding his hair, before shaking it back over his shoulders, and that is just not goddamn fair. Neither is the way he rakes those long pianist’s fingers through the black fall of it, before gathering it up and retying it.

“Look at you,” Val says with a teasing smirk, “might as well be Freyja herself. Ready, pretty boy?”

Loki bends over to grab the knife at his feet, and Tony just _knows_ his eyes are going wide to stare even more at Loki’s ass. Val’s right, Loki is extremely pretty, and Tony’s going to keep staring for as long as he can before Loki catches him.

With flawless timing, Tony’s head-down over his tablet again just as Loki turns around. “When am I not ready?”

Tony’s smart enough to know he’s not paying nearly enough attention to touch his code anymore, so he’s just poking a blank page. Everything’s quiet for a second before feet hit the floor and somebody gets punched, and that’s when Tony glances up again.

Loki’s fighting left-handed now, and gradually getting pushed back across the room by Val. He’s dodging all her strikes and losing ground inch by inch, retaliating here and there but mostly playing keep-away, and Tony would think Loki was losing if he didn’t have a massive, smug smirk on his face. Barely any of her hits are landing, but none of his are either, and Tony can’t bring himself to so much as blink when he knows Loki is up to something.

Loki retreats again and Val lunges to catch him, only for Loki to twist around and trap her arm against his body. A swift jab of his fingers to her wrist, and she’s dropping her sword into his waiting hand.

She shouts in anger as they spin apart again, and Loki’s standing there with his knife in his left hand, her sword in his right.

Val seethes for a second before getting herself under control. “That’s mine.”

Loki grins. “Come get it.”

It’s not a done deal, of course - it never is with these two, and from what Tony’s seen, Val’s actually _more _dangerous unarmed. Tony taps his tablet once or twice to keep up appearances, before Val charges. She ducks both of Loki’s swings, and catches him in his bare midriff, lifting him into the air and throwing him to the floor. Loki goes down fast, but he hooks a leg over her back and drags her down too.

It puts Loki in trouble, because it’s almost _too _close quarters for knives to work. This is wrestling - dirty wrestling - and they squirm and roll around on the mats, the upper hand switching so quickly that Tony can’t track it. Val throws a punch, which Loki deflects into the floor, before he thrusts up with a knee that she arches away from. He gets some space for a second and swings the sword - Val grabs his wrist in midair and twists it, making him drop the sword with a yell. She grins, but not for long before Loki elbows her in the face and rolls free, ending up in a sexy, predatory crouch several feet away.

Loki inhales and tosses his head, gaze lifting - and his eyes lock onto Tony’s like heat-seeking missiles.

Tony has absolutely, completely been caught in the worst way - leaning forward, mouth gaping open, tablet sliding off his lap and probably turned off again. He sits there like an idiot, utterly frozen under Loki’s stare.

Half of him is expecting Loki to throw that knife at him, and the other half wouldn’t mind if he did.

But Loki settles into his stance with a smug smirk and this little acknowledging head-tilt, just so Tony knows Loki’s caught him, and then turns his attention back to Val right as she tackles him to the floor.

She goes for his left arm, the one still holding a knife, and pins it, but just before she gets it down he tosses the knife up in an arc over her back - that she can’t see - and he catches it in his free hand. Just like that his right arm is around her shoulders and the blade is against her throat.

Val goes motionless at the touch of the metal. They’re face to face, almost kissing when Loki whispers, “Yield.”

She breathes in, and out with a shake of her head. “I _hate_ you,” she repeats, tapping the floor twice to submit. “You’re gonna get what’s coming to you for that.”

Loki’s eyes slide back across the room, and find Tony again. “Oh, I look forward to it.”

Tony swallows, suddenly aware he is not leaving this gym until Loki lets him.

Loki releases Val, and she climbs to her feet and snatches her sword up from the floor. “You’re teaching me that throw.”

Loki stands as well, smooth and fluid. “Another time,” he says, without looking away from Tony.

From the corner of his eye Tony sees Val glance between the two of them, and bark a laugh. She sheathes her sword, spins on her heel and strides for the door without looking back.

It bangs shut behind her, and Tony is alone with the half-naked God of Mischief he’s been hardcore eyefucking for the past fifteen minutes.

Tony swallows again.

A slow, hungry smile spreads across Loki’s lips, and he prowls - yes, that’s definitely prowling - towards Tony. “Did you enjoy that, Stark?”

Tony’s mouth is desert dry, and he doesn’t make the comparison lightly. “Yeah. Yeah, I - I did.” Oh, god, is _that _the best he can do?

“Hm.” Loki’s smile quirks up at the corner, and he turns away to pick up his dropped layers. “I think I need to bathe.”

Tony blinks. “Okay.”

Loki heads for the shower room, and looks back over his shoulder. “I shall deliberately use the shared facilities, instead of returning to my private quarters.”

“Good for you.”

Loki stops after another step, and sighs. “And if you don’t join me, I’ll make sure you never so much as see me with a blade in my hand again.”

Now that’s a threat Tony can get behind. He shoves the tablet to one side - knocking over the half-full coffee cup he’d clean forgotten about - and jumps up. “Next time, _lead_ with that.”

Loki smiles and continues on his way, Tony’s gaze glued to the definition of Loki’s back as he follows.

He swears Loki’s only a few seconds ahead of him, but by the time Tony gets to the shower room, Loki’s already completely naked under the steaming spray, face tilted up and luxuriating in it. Because he’s Tony Stark - and because half of the Avengers have shoulders ten feet wide - the shower cubicles are each big enough to fit the entire team at once. Loki, of course, has shamelessly claimed the largest one, meant for the Hulk, with a rainforest showerhead filling the whole ceiling. Loki’s also left the cubicle door not only unlocked, but wide open, which means there’s absolutely nothing in the way of Tony watching Loki get soaking wet.

Tony stops and leans against the doorframe, short of the water, to drink the sight in. Cunning bastard, Loki’s at exactly the right angle for Tony to see neither his cock nor his ass, only a sort of three-quarter profile of his hip and the fall of his hand, which is just cheating. But there’s still a lot to see, and with all this on display, Tony’s in no rush for the main event.

Without turning around, Loki calls, “Aren’t you joining me?”

“Dunno,” Tony says. “It’s a pretty good view from here.”

Loki chuckles, and shifts his weight from one foot to the other to show off how the water rolls over his body. “Enjoy it while it lasts. I’m not a patient man.”

Okay, so, threats, Loki’s threats really do it for him. Tony strips in a hurry, tripping over his shoelaces and getting a foot stuck in his jeans. After what feels like twenty years he’s naked to match Loki and stepping into the fall of blissfully warm water.

Tony approaches slowly, simultaneously avoiding slipping and trying to work out how the next hour is going to go. Loki’s called all the shots so far and Tony has no intention of messing with that, both because he’s still slightly afraid of Loki’s knives - in a way that only turns him on even more - and because he doesn’t want to miss out on whatever Loki has in mind.

“Well, I’m here and enthusiastically consenting,” Tony announces himself. “What’s the plan, Machiavelli?”

Loki turns around with a smug, cat-got-the-cream smile. “Tell me, Stark, how long have you been watching me?”

Uh-oh. Tony deflects. “Well, I was already in the gym when you showed up, so that lets us pin it down quite closely-”

“Don’t play the fool, it doesn’t suit you.” Loki’s smile stretches further, and he steps slowly towards Tony with his head tilted. “I asked how long you have been watching me thinking I was unaware of your interest.”

Well, fuck. On the other hand, Tony hasn’t been stabbed yet, so… “Sounds like you already know the answer, so why don’t you tell me?”

Loki laughs. “Very well. Your cunning plan to spy on me this morning didn’t come out of nowhere, I’m sure we can agree on that much. I know I felt your eyes on me during the battle against Hydra’s forces last week. You could merely have been keeping watch on an unreliable ally, but I don’t think so. Because the week before that, you contrived an excuse for the Valkyrie and I to spar outdoors, where we could be more easily seen from the windows. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how your cameras track me when they have no reason to. Quite the list, Stark. But that’s not where this started, is it?”

Tony folds his arms and tries to look composed with water running down his face and his hair flattened to his forehead. “Let’s say you’re getting warmer.”

“As you wish. We arrived at your Compound a month ago, but I won’t insult us both by pretending that’s all there is to it. When Thor first brought us to Earth you attended many of the negotiations for our new home, and I don’t believe you took your gaze off me once.”

Oh, _god_, that. Tony swallows more arousal at the reminder of how skillfully Loki handled those negotiations, manipulating everybody present - including Thor - so gracefully they practically thanked him for the privilege. Loki essentially wrote the resulting treaty single-handed and got New Asgard everything they wanted, while Norway fell over itself to give it to them. Tony, a seasoned expert in drawing up tough contracts and spinning many and varied flavors of corporate bullshit, nearly swooned in the presence of a master.

“You’re very…” Tony tries to think of a way to say _captivating _that doesn’t sound like that. “Nice to look at.”

_Smooth, genius._

“I am. In fact, if you recall our first meeting as well as I do-” Loki smirks at the possibility that Tony could have forgotten any of his little invasion, “you’ll remember I caught your eye a few times over. Aesthetic appreciation, it might be politely phrased. Less politely, I think you would have fucked me right there in your Tower if you had been slightly less distracted by your city burning.”

He takes another step closer, a hand raised in the air and hovering between them, as if he’s contemplating whether or not to close the gap and touch Tony. “Well, Stark? Am I warm now?”

What the hell, Tony’s thrown himself off higher cliffs than this one. He jerks his chin up. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”

Loki grins. That raised hand flexes, long fingers fanning closed and then open again, before he reaches out for the back of Tony’s neck and pulls him in, stopping when they’re just inches apart.

Even through the streaming water, Tony can feel Loki’s exhale on his skin when he speaks. “Last chance to end this without kissing your enemy.”

Tony snorts. “Enemy? Please. As if New York was your best shot. Are we doing this or not?”

“Bold mouth,” Loki murmurs, thumb stroking down the bumps of Tony’s spine. “Give it to me.”

Tony has every intention of getting the last word in himself, but then he just - doesn’t do that, and he’s kissing Loki before he’s really decided that _now_ is the moment to give in.

Loki’s lips are oddly cool, which Tony shrugs off as an alien god thing, and smooth and slick from the water. It’s clearly not his first rodeo, either, going by the way he moves - confident, caressing, sensual, all without being too dominant or taking without giving in return. Because dear god, is Loki giving - a slow, warm feeling of bliss is spreading down Tony’s spine and making his fingers tingle, and he’s balanced up on his toes to push harder into Loki’s mouth. That hand Loki has on Tony’s neck holds him steady and close, and Loki’s tongue sweeps forward to toy at the seam of Tony’s lips, asking permission. Tony is more than happy to open for him, his tongue moving in to meet Loki’s in the middle, and _that _feels better than it has any right to, stupid fucking alien god.

Loki’s other hand finds Tony’s chest and starts exploring, sweeping through the water on his skin, and that reminds Tony that he has hands, too, and they’re wasted on not doing anything. He reaches out blindly - his eyes are closed and he has no idea when that happened - and finds Loki’s waist, settling his hands around the jut of Loki’s hipbones. Loki’s all hard muscle, no softness to be found, even when Tony starts sliding his hands back towards Loki’s ass. Loki grins into the kiss and drops his hand to Tony’s ass in return, squeezing literally his entire buttcheek with those long, knife-wielding fingers. Loki’s other hand, still on Tony’s neck, angles him just a little bit higher, before Loki backs away and breaks the kiss.

Tony sucks in air he hadn’t realized he didn’t have. The rush of new oxygen is almost as good as any of the rest of it. For a whirling instant he weighs the pros and cons of telling Loki, god of grabbing people by the throat and throwing them out of windows, that Tony might be interested in experimenting with breathplay.

Tony blinks his eyes open again to see Loki grinning at him through the falling water. “Enjoyed that, did you?”

Like hell is Tony letting Loki tease him about this. Tony undercuts him shamelessly. “Damn right I did. What’s step two?”

Loki tilts his head to the side, contemplative. “Turnabout is fair play, your people say. So _you _put on a show for _me_, Stark, and if I like what I see I’ll fuck you against the wall.”

“That one in particular?” Tony asks, glancing over at the spread of tiles suddenly full of inviting possibilities.

“Well, if you want my bed, you’ll have to earn that.”

At this particular moment, Tony has never wanted to earn anything so much in his life. “And how would I- would an interested party go about doing that?”

Loki’s grin returns, wider and sharper. “Start by obeying my orders, and you’ll find out.”

He steps back and gives Tony a little push in the chest, separating them enough Loki can eye Tony head to toe. _If _Loki likes what he sees, hah. The gap between them allows Tony a full view of Loki in return, and Loki’s cock is well on the way to gloriously, enticingly hard. Loki’s clearly just dragging this out to flaunt his power and be an asshole, and Tony wouldn’t have the God of Mischief any other way.

But that doesn’t mean Loki gets the upper hand just by asking for it.

By the time Tony’s done, Loki will be _begging _to fuck him.

Tony tips his head back, letting the falling water wash down his face, locks eyes with Loki, and slides slowly to his knees.

Loki’s lips part on a silent exhale.

Tony stares up the long lines of Loki’s body, savoring every inch of him - and damn, there are a lot of inches. Loki looks even taller from this angle, elegant and composed and princely despite standing in the Compound gym shower room soaking wet and naked. Tony’s pulse is pounding in his ears, almost drowning out the rushing sound of the water hitting the tiles. And Tony’s cock is throbbing, twitching up between his legs.

_Here we go._

Tony runs both hands down his thighs, and spreads them as far apart as they’ll go. “Obeying your orders like this?”

For all Loki’s regal posturing, assuming Tony would submit to his plans, Tony actually _doing _it seems to take Loki by surprise. His eyes widen before his hands clench into fists by his sides, and his expression shifts to a look that’s downright _hungry_.

“Or this?” Tony asks, lifting his hands to squeeze both his pecs, then circle fingertips around his nipples. He arches into his own touch and gives a hum of deep satisfaction. “You like that?”

_Yeah, _Loki likes it, if the hand he wraps around his cock is any indication. His eyes are intense, almost burning, drinking in Tony’s every move. Tony licks his lips as Loki thumbs the head of his cock, nice and slow.

“How about this?” Tony sucks two fingers into his mouth as deep as he can take them. It’s been a while since he deepthroated anybody, but his gag reflex hasn’t managed to resurrect itself just yet, and he gets down to the base of his fingers no problem.

Tony swirls his tongue around his fingers, making sure the tip gets past his lips where Loki can see it, then swallows. Loki’s gaze tracks the bob of Tony’s throat, then his fingers emerging as he draws them out. Loki looks stunning, like it’s taking every ounce of willpower he has to keep himself from quitting the game and fucking Tony right now. That hand around his cock is squeezing, trying to get himself under control. Tony’s not quite close enough that he could take Loki in his mouth, but he makes a show of leaning in anyway.

Loki steps forward and catches him with a hand under his chin, holding him still. “No, Stark.”

“Oh, come on, you’re gonna stand there with me kneeling at your feet and _not _let me suck your cock?”

“As tempting as you are, I have other plans,” Loki purrs, but the stroke of his finger along Tony’s jawline says he’s thinking about it.

“Care to fill me in?”

Loki’s eyes flash fire. “Oh, I’ll fill you, all right.”

“Uh-huh, I walked right into that one,” Tony says, grinning.

Loki quirks an eyebrow, _you think? _He drops his hand away from Tony’s chin and takes a step backward to ideal viewing distance. “Make yourself come and you can have the rest.”

It’s a pretty good deal - Tony’s mind shoots ahead to being fucked senseless by Loki, already having come once, Loki holding him upright because Tony’s way too strung out to stand on his own...

“Yes, please,” Tony says, because he still has no shame, and starts jerking his cock faster. The warm water isn’t the world’s best lube but it’s good enough for this, and anyway Tony doesn’t have the patience to go find anything better.

Tony’s never been the hugest fan of exhibitionism - he usually prefers a little more active participation on all sides - but being under Loki’s gaze is something else entirely. It’s not like Loki’s just standing back, leaving Tony to his own devices. No, Tony’s got Loki’s orders to follow, wrapped in lovely, silken threats, little flicks of Loki’s eyes cluing Tony in to what he wants to see, and the oh-so-delicious show Tony’s getting in return, Loki’s hand on his own cock moving in time with Tony’s strokes.

Tony brings his other hand into play, sliding up his chest, twists fingers in his hair and pulls, then down again to palm his thigh and spread himself a little wider. Loki’s breathing trembles and his teeth bare in a snarl just for a second before he restrains himself.

And Tony’s had about enough of letting Loki get away with that. “You know, you can have me any time you want,” he says, and Loki’s eyes snap up to Tony’s. “It’s your idea to wait until I’ve come, not mine. You can pick me up and slam me against the wall right now and I’ll just cheer you on. You’re not the patient type, you said so yourself. Well, neither am I, so it would really work out for both of us if you just let yourself go and fucked me.”

“You will not tempt me,” Loki says, but it’s probably the least convincing lie he’s ever told.

“I already have,” Tony says, because he can and because it’s true. He has to slow down his strokes a little, since the teasing dirty talk is just winding his arousal tighter. “You’re an inch away from losing it and you know it. I can kneel here obeying you as long as I like, but I guarantee you can’t just stand back and not do anything about it.”

“You believe you can ruin me with your words?”

“I _know_. You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you? Just grabbing me and yanking me to my feet - by my neck or my hair, either works for me - turning me around and shoving me against _that_ wall.” Tony flicks a finger at the particular wall he indicated earlier, before returning that hand to his cock. “And then, man, you’re gonna love what we do then. I know for a fact Thor keeps massage oil in here somewhere, so we’re not going to be short of lube _and _you get the pleasure of stealing it from your brother-”

Loki’s eyes light up with a little flare of pure mischief.

“-so then the only decision left is whether you do it quick and dirty, and just fuck my thighs because you can’t control yourself for long enough to prep me, or if we take the scenic route and you finger me open until I’m crying and begging for your cock inside me - that’s inside my ass, by the way, in case you haven’t worked that out-”

Loki breaks.

Loki breaks and it’s _glorious_, six-feet-plus of horny naked god surging down to knock Tony to the floor, his back against the tiles and water pounding on his face for just a second before Loki’s over him and kissing him like both their lives depend on it. Loki’s holding himself up with one hand so he doesn’t crush Tony completely - only partially, which Tony is very much enjoying - and Loki’s other hand wraps around both their cocks, slick with something that isn’t water and definitely wasn’t there earlier.

_Stupid fucking alien god-_

Loki’s palm is just cool enough to send thrills up Tony’s spine, and having those long, lethal fingers around his cock at _last _has Tony’s arousal crashing through every part of his body it can find. Loki’s kiss is ecstasy on steroids, teeth claiming Tony’s lips and tongue claiming his mouth, only going deeper when Tony meets him in the middle. Tony gets one hand on Loki’s ass and _squeezes_, the other roaming the muscled expanse of his back, fitting itself into Loki’s bones. He can feel Loki’s heartbeat pounding, and _Tony _did that, Tony got Loki God of Mischief to lose at his own game.

Tony got Loki to press their cocks together, a shuddering column of steel wrapped in velvet throbbing against Tony’s own. That’s Loki’s precome dripping cool against his skin, Loki’s balls heavy on the head of Tony’s cock, Loki’s hand wrapped tight around Tony with the same skill he’d use to hold a knife. Tony grins into the kiss and thrusts up into Loki’s grip, and Loki works them harder, twisting and pulling and driving them towards the inevitable end of all this-

A bite to Tony’s lip and a shove of Loki’s cock against his, and the pressure inside of Tony snaps taut. He comes with a shout against Loki’s mouth, jerking up and curling into himself, never mind that Loki’s already there. Loki’s hand is still going, drawing everything out with smooth, steady strokes, and his kiss is still hungry and desperate.

Tony holds onto the rush for as long as he can before his body unwinds on its own and half-collapses back down to the floor. Loki lets him go, rising up a little to smirk at him, shielding Tony’s face from the falling water. The hand around their cocks releases, and Loki draws it up to his lips, showing Tony the white streaks of his come.

That talented tongue flicks out and Loki licks Tony’s come off his fingers. Tony’s cock makes a valiant but sadly futile effort to get hard again, pulsing with need to _do _something about this.

Loki moves to the next finger, drawing the tip into his mouth and sucking it clean. Tony can hardly believe what he’s seeing, but he’s sure as hell not looking away from a literal god licking up his spunk, because that’s hot in like eight different ways.

Loki finishes his task and swallows with a smile. “Not bad, Stark.”

“Pineapple,” Tony croaks, “works every time.”

Loki quirks an expression that says _I know that made sense to you, but I can’t be bothered to ask_, before his features ease back into pure lust. “Does that offer to fuck your thighs still stand?”

“That depends,” Tony says. “Are we moving this to a bed? Because the tiles are getting a little old.”

“I distinctly remember telling you that you’d have to earn my bed.”

“Yeah, me too. Answer the question.”

Loki chuckles. “You dare much.”

“I don’t think we’d be here if I didn’t.”

“True.” Loki balances himself carefully before wrapping one hand around Tony’s wrist, and closes his eyes in concentration. There’s a _very _weird blur of _what-the-fuck-is-going-on_, and just like that, Tony’s…

Tony’s dry as a bone, sinking deep into a cloud-like mattress, every inch of his back half caressed by thick furs. The white-tiled shower cubicle has been replaced by a much larger room with walls of warm, golden stone, lit by literal flaming torches straight out of a medieval castle, and they’re lying in a gigantic, gorgeously antique four-poster bed. And an enormous open window looks out over a vista of ice and mountains and more ice that is definitely not a view of upstate New York in high summer.

“Where the hell are we?”

“Still at the Compound,” Loki murmurs into Tony’s ear from where he’s sprawled on top of him. “It’s just an illusion I cast on the quarters you so generously gave me.”

“Oh,” Tony says, and runs his fingers through the furs. They don’t _feel _like an illusion, but Tony will just assume it’s a very good one. That, or Loki’s hunted down the last remaining ice-age megafauna in North America. “It’s pretty impressive.”

He feels Loki smile against his cheek. “It is.”

Loki plants both hands in the mattress either side of Tony’s head, and pushes himself upright to look Tony in the eye. In the course of the magic - presumably - that dried them and brought them here, Loki’s taken the liberty of fixing his hair to look absolutely flawless, and not at all like he was screwing Tony through the floor of a shower cubicle two minutes ago.

Unacceptable.

Tony tilts his chin up in challenge. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, you have some thigh-fucking to get to.”

Loki’s grin is delighted and dangerous, and with a single move he lifts himself completely off Tony’s body and flips Tony over in place. The mattress hits Tony’s front and knocks the air out of him with a rush.

“I do indeed,” Loki purrs, both hands sliding down Tony’s back and not even hesitating when they continue over his ass. “Thank you for reminding me.”

Loki settles his hands on Tony’s thighs and kneads into his flesh, two or three deep, rolling squeezes that would turn into a massage if Loki kept going. “I’ve never been too fond of mortals, but you’re not entirely worthless, are you?” Loki says, contemplative, as he pats Tony’s ass before lifting his hands away completely.

“Thanks, I think,” Tony says, too languid from the orgasm and the nice groping to bother getting actually offended.

Loki chuckles as his hands return, nudging Tony’s thighs apart with pointy knuckles until Tony spreads his legs, then dipping between them and slathering Tony’s skin with something slick. It’s thick and pre-warmed, and when Tony inhales he smells something pleasantly organic and mineral, like steam rising from a hot spring. Loki coats Tony thoroughly, pushes his legs back together, and gets into position, the mattress shifting as he settles his knees on either side of Tony’s. “Ready, Stark?”

Tony elects to tease him with a wide, fake yawn. “Better hurry up, I’m falling asleep-”

The push of Loki’s cock between his thighs is unlike anything Tony expected. He wasn’t expecting much - some touch, some pressure, but surely it couldn’t match actually being fucked. But Tony’s body begs to disagree, because the thrust of Loki’s cock carries right into his toes and up his neck. The absence of overwhelming intensity in his ass lets Tony feel all the other delightful sensations in play, the flick of Loki’s hair across his shoulder and the unique hint of coolness in his skin. A few experimental thrusts, each one better than the last, and Loki’s pace settles out slow and steady.

Hmm. Good, but no. Tony’s switching gears. “You know, I figured a literal god could go harder than this…”

Loki _stops_, and for a second Tony wants to scream frustration that _that _was apparently the last straw. Then there’s a delighted laugh and Loki braces his hands firmly on either side of Tony’s head. “As you wish.”

And _ooh_, does that get Tony some results. Just like that Loki’s slamming into him faster than humanly possible, the smack of his hips into Tony’s ass lighting up everything, and Tony grins triumph into the mattress. Maybe Loki thinks he’s regained the upper hand, taken back control, but Tony’s calling bullshit on that - there’s no way Loki can keep this up for long without losing it.

And sure enough, Loki’s thrusts start to get messier and he doesn’t have a single quip to throw. Tony relishes the sound of Loki’s breaths going harsh and shaky, and the way Loki’s fingers clutch at the furs for something to hold onto. Tony has brought Loki to absolute fucking ruin, taken him apart from top to bottom and left him in pieces, and Loki’s just chasing every last scrap of pleasure he can get from Tony’s body like that will put him back together.

Tony didn’t even _dream_ that his little spying exercise could possibly go this well. Never imagined his obsession with Loki’s knife-wielding abilities would get him naked and high and impaled on Loki’s cock like this.

Tony preens, wriggles himself deeper into the mattress, and lets Loki fuck him some more. Sometimes his genius amazes even him.

“_Stark_,” Loki snarls through gritted teeth, and if Tony thought he was smug before, it’s _nothing_ to hearing his own name come out of Loki’s mouth.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Tony gasps, barely enough air in his lungs to get the words out, “you know who I am, you know what you want-” He doesn’t really care what he’s saying anymore, but it sounds pretty good and has Loki moving even faster. Tony clenches his thighs, shoves them together as hard as he can, and Loki _shouts_, hips moving in short, needy little jerks. There’s no elegance or finesse left in him, just raw lust and power - every thrust of his cock feels like getting punched, in the best possible way - and then Loki’s head drops to Tony’s shoulder and pushes into him with a snarl as he comes.

Tony can’t resist squeezing his thighs again, just to see what happens. Loki hisses between his teeth and shoves his cock all the way forward, hipbones digging into Tony’s ass. Tony can feel the slick of Loki’s come getting smeared into the lube by his cock - such a simple thing, but so deliciously filthy that Tony’s cock throbs again just at that. Loki softens slowly, easing down from his position braced above Tony as he does, until his weight is settled carefully on Tony’s back.

Tony exhales a long, satisfied sigh, but he’s not done with Loki yet. “That was… adequate.”

Loki’s snort says he doesn’t buy it for a second. He traces under Tony’s jawline with a delicate fingernail, then rests his hand lightly on Tony’s neck. “Trickster,” Loki murmurs, warmth in the word. “I might have to keep you.”

It’s barely over and Loki’s already asking for a rematch? Well, well, Emo Kylo Ren _does _have a soft side. “I feel like that’s a decision we should probably make when we have more than one working brain cell between us.”

Loki chuckles. “Feeling a little worn out, are you? Perhaps I fucked you _too_ well.” His thumb strokes down the line of Tony’s pulse as if petting him.

“No such thing,” Tony fires back. “I guarantee I can take anything you can dish out.”

“Oh? Then I have a proposal for you.”

On the one hand, it was a totally reasonable plan to recover first before agreeing to anything else. On the other, Tony’s actually kind of enjoying Loki’s hand on his throat and really enjoying Loki’s body lying on top of him, and he’s ecstatic at the curl of Loki’s voice in his ear as the god who proclaimed Tony _not entirely worthless_ practically begs to be allowed to fuck him again.

Tony’s not even disappointed in himself when he recklessly abandons anything resembling a reasonable plan. There really wasn’t a plausible scenario in which he did anything else. “Let’s hear it.”

“You enjoy watching me fight,” Loki says. “Fortunately for you, I enjoy your attention. Supposing we make a wager of it.”

Oh, Tony likes the sound of this…

“Say, every blow I land, I can trade for a kiss from you. Or each round won, you suck my cock. Each round lost, I’ll suck yours. The day I don’t fall to the Valkyrie once, I’ll take you back to bed and find the patience to fuck you properly.” Loki gives a casual little shrug as if he’s hoping Tony won’t notice he’s negotiating for some kind of standing _arrangement_. “Or any other exchange you suggest.”

So what Loki’s saying is, he’ll do whatever Tony asks as long as Tony bends over afterwards? Oh, Tony knows _exactly _what he wants from a knife-happy God of Mischief offering to do his bidding. “You find an excuse to fight Rogers and you wipe the goddamn _floor_ with him, and you can have anything you like.”

That hand on Tony’s throat shivers, and Loki gives a delighted little laugh. “You want your Captain humiliated?”

“Not my Captain anymore, but yes. In front of as many people as you can manage, especially me. With _extra_ knives, please.”

“I think something can be arranged,” Loki murmurs, low and sensual, and sets to work kissing his way down the back of Tony’s neck as if rewarding Tony’s taste for petty revenge.

It’s just like Tony thought. Obsession with Loki’s knives isn’t a choice.

It’s a game, and Tony’s _winning._

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed as ever by [Haldane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Haldane/) and [Apples](https://appleslostherpassword.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Here is my [tumblr](http://ao3-arkada.tumblr.com/) if you're into that sort of thing.


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